


Tiger Cub

by Doc_Bell



Category: Doom Patrol (Comics), Doom Patrol (TV), Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Bonding, Family Dynamics, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doc_Bell/pseuds/Doc_Bell
Summary: During an accident in the Chief's lab, Gar is turned into a toddler Because Science. The Chief says he can fix it, he just has to go away for a few days.What will the Doom Patrol do with their new baby in the meantime?





	1. He's Baby

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a universe where all the characters from the Doom Patrol TV show are living in the manor the same time Gar is.

CLANG! CLANG!

Cliff slammed against the door to the Chiefs lab. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Cliff, Larry, Rita, Victor, and Jane had heard an explosion in the Chief’s lab moments ago. The Chief was in there working with Gar. They were both stuck in there and the door _wouldn’t open_.

CLANG!  
He slammed his shoulder into the door again, hearing it rattle loose.  
CLANG!  
The door flew open, and Cliff almost fell on the ground from his momentum.

The team rushed into the room, taking in the appearance of the wrecked lab. There were pieces of machinery littering the floor, some had been blocking the door and skid across the floor when Cliff threw the door open.

“Garfield? Niles?” Rita called out, almost melting as they desperately searched the room.

“Fuck. _Fuck_!” Cliff exclaimed as the team panned out across the lab.

Larry was silent, his glowing chest voicing his worry for him.

“Shit! I found the Chief!” Jane. She was pulling the disoriented man from the wreckage. “Where’s Gar?”  
“Gar? Gar, where are you!” Cliff’s voice may be robotic, but it easily conveyed his worry.

Worry, worry, worry, the team started to panic. Gar wasn’t calling out, he wasn’t calling out. He could be hurt, hurt and not calling out. Worry, worry.

Then they heard the crying. But not the crying of a hurt teenager. They all ran towards the sound in the far corner of the lab. Cliff pulled large pieces of wreckage, and immediately stumbled backwards.

Curled up in between pieces of metal and wrapped in Gar’s favorite jacket, there was a green haired toddler.

This didn’t make any sense, and Larry’s chest was still glowing. It was obviously Gar, his shock of green hair was proof enough of that. As if the Doom Patrol hadn’t seen weirder things than a suddenly de-aged boy. The jury was still out on whether or not he was okay.

The child was softly crying, scared and sniffing into his too long jacket sleeves. The team had all instinctively taken a step back, not wanting to scare him with their appearances. Cliff remembered when Babydoll first met him. _It’s so ugly_ , the words had stung then and devolved into a dull ache of a memory now.

 _Make it go away_ , and his chest throbbed, a phantom pain in a phantom heart. He should be standing the farthest back, they didn’t know if Gar even remembered them or not. But he had pulled the wreckage off of the now-toddler, so he stood the closest.

Gar was still crying and confused. His bleary eyes latched onto the closest, largest figure.

“Cwiff-” Gar hiccuped, throwing his arms up to be carried, tiny hands grabbing at the air.

Clifford Steele _melted_ , and in an instant Gar was swept up in his arms and cradled against his chest.

Larry’s chest stopped glowing, and the team circled tightly around Cliff and the child. Gar had his face buried in Cliff’s chest, hands fisted in his shirt and staining it with dust and tears. He hiccuped again.

“Hey . . . hey, kiddo,” Cliff said, gently rubbing Gar’s back, “Are you hurt?”

Gar stayed silent in Cliff’s arms. Meanwhile, Victor and Rita helped the Chief into his wheelchair.

“Let's go upstairs. To the kitchen.” Larry said.

The poor baby was probably in shock, Cliff thought.

“Okay. Lets go, kid”

And so the ragtag team made their way out of the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gather themselves in the kithcen, and try to epice together what happened.

The team was loosely assembled in the kitchen, tense but not panicked now that they knew Gar was safe.

“Garfield, darling,” Rita cooed at the toddler still in Cliff’s arms, “Are you hurt?”

He only shifted to further hide in Cliff’s arms and chest, bundled up in his too large jacket.

“Aw, kiddo.” Cliff said, oh so carefully placing Gar to sit on the kitchen counter. “Let us look at you, okay?”

“This is nonsense,” the Chief chimed in, “There's no need to be so delicate right now, we need answers.”

“Hey!” Jane said, “He’s a kid.”

“He is _not_ a child.”

“Well, he’s a child right now. No thanks to you, I’m sure.”

“Jane, is now really the time for one of your outbursts?”

“No! And it’s not time for one of _yours_ either.” Rita cut off the two’s argument, gesturing to the distressed child on their kitchen counter.

Larry had softly removed Gar’s jacket, revealing the graphic T-shirt the toddler was currently swimming in. Vic was running diagnostics and body scans as Larry and Cliff gently examined his exposed arms. Gar had scraped his elbows and knees, that would need to be cleaned.  
The team gathered around Gar, unconsciously blocking him from the Chief.

“Gar, do you remember anything?” Vic asked, his scans coming up clear for any major injuries. Gar didn’t respond, looking at the strange faces around him.

“Do you remember who we are?” Rita asked, crouching down slightly to Gar’s level.

“Uh-huh,” At the first time the boy had spoken from the lab, the team let out a collective sigh of relief. Gar sniffled again, scrubbing at his eyes with tiny fists.

He peered out again, and pointing to each of them in turn said, “Cwiff, Rita, Lawwy, Janeie, Vic.”

He looked at their inquisitive faces again.

“Wigh-right?” He asked nervously, trying to stamp down his adorable lisp.

“That’s exactly right, thank you.” Rita said, smiling.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Larry added.

“Do you know how old you are?” Cliff asked, his hand still on Gar’s back so he wouldn’t fall.

“Uh-huh. I’m thw-three.”

 _Gosh_ , this kid was adorable.

“We need to clean these cuts, okay?” Vic, ever practical, chimed in. “It might sting.”

“Okay.” Gar said compliantly, holding his arms up again.

“He doesn't need to be _held_ to receive medical attention.” The Chief said, somehow wheeling his chair around to get a better view of Gar.

Gar almost shamefully pulled his arms back, but before he could he was held against Cliff’s chest again.

“Chief,” Cliff started, “Shut the fuck up.”

“ _Language_.” Rita hissed.

“Shit. Sorry,” Cliff said, “ _Shit. Sorry--- **shit-**_ ”

“Just stop.” Vic cut him off before he could dig his hole even deeper.

“I need to clean the cuts on your elbows now, Gar. Are you gonna be okay?”

Gar nodded, but that didn’t stop him from whimpering in surprise as Vic pressed alcohol swabs on his cuts.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Cliff said, taking so naturally to having a baby to hold again.

“Hey, do you remember this?” Larry asked, pointing to a picture on the fridge. It was a picture of the team at Christmas, all sitting around a beautiful tree with a roaring fireplace behind them.

“N-no.”

“That was a fun year, wasn’t it Jane?”

And so Jane and Larry distracted Gar while Vic moved on to cleaning out the cuts on his knees. It was a picture from the year the mansion’s heating went out during a snowstorm. Thankfully they had such a big and beautiful fireplace, and they had all curled around it and spent Christmas together, making s’mores and telling stories.

“All done.” Vic proclaimed.

“Wea-really?”

“Yeah, buddy. You did great.” Cliff said softly.

“Are you hungry?” Larry asked, a typical Larry question.

Gar nodded, and Cliff gently set him back on the counter.

Larry pulled some applesauce from the fridge, and made Gar a bowl. They talked as Gar slowly ate.

“What did you do?” Jane asked, blunt as ever.

“I don't know.” The Chief responded.

“Bullshit you don't know.” Cliff replied.

“ _Language_.” Rita, again.

“Sorry. _Bull_ , you don't know. What did you do?”

“I already told you I don’t know. Contrary to your delusions, Cliff, I’m here to help you all, not hurt you.”

“Okay, so fix it.” Vic said. “He’s obviously scared, so turn him back.”

“And I would if I could. If I knew how.” The Chief quickly amended, and the team all began to take on defensive stances.

“I had many volatile chemicals in my lab, you all know this. Some chemicals were of . . . an unknown origin. I suspect those are what caused these . . . previously unknown results.”

Vic didn’t like the sound of that. He knew all about volatile chemicals and lab accidents. Vic found he had to remind himself that Gar was okay. He was still here, so he was okay.

“You had better fix this, Chief.” Cliff warned.

“And I will. I plan on leaving first thing in the morning, to travel to where I found those chemicals and obtain samples for further research.” The Chief continued, “Please don’t let your anger get the best of you, I planned none of this.”

“Whatever, mad scientist.”

“What Clifford means to say,” Rita started, “is thank you for your prompt response to this emergency.”

Gar yawned softly, gaining the attention of all of the team.

“It is getting late, isn’t it?” Larry said softly.

The team all looked at each other, silently assessing the situation. None of them wanted to leave Gar alone overnight in his new state. Larry couldn’t take him to his room, they all knew that. Rita was too nervous about how she looked when she slept. Jane, Vic, and Cliff were a solid maybe.

Gar lifted his arms again “Cwiffy . . .”

Honestly, whatever this adorable kid lisped out he was going to get. The team collectively realized that they were wrapped around his little fingers, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” Cliff said, picking up Gar again.


End file.
